It is February 11th, 2010. I am sitting in Magadan and have time to reflect on my journey so far. It is GMT+11 here, which means I have travelled pretty much halfway around the World. And all without taking a single flight so far. Unfortunately I have to break the ‘rules’ and take a flight to Kamchatka, as there really is no other practical way to reach that place. I left the UK nearly 4 months ago, and have been in Russia for two months exactly today.
Matt in Oymyakon at -54C
So 8 days ago I left the city of Yakutsk in the classic Russian ‘Uaz’ (see the photos- they’re like a VW camper with bigger wheels, and they’re everywhere in Russia, but especially in the east). They’re generally old, and look like they’re on their last legs, but I guess they’re hardy steeds, and seem to be the first choice for people around here.
So we left Yakutsk at 3pm, rounded up the passengers (5 including me) and set out for the 1100km journey to Oymyakon. Shortly after leaving the city, we headed out onto the ice highway across the Lena. This time there were proper lanes and markers! The villages gradually became sparser as we headed east until again there was nothing. It was a shame to be making the journey mostly at night, and therefore miss all the views. But it was possible to see the vast, looming shapes of the Verkhoyansky mountain range, as their snowy peaks reflected the moonlight. Again it was like trying to sleep in a working washing machine, with about the same amount of room, and the same amount of movement, but I guess I got a few hours. I was wakened in the morning when we made our last brief stop in the middle of nowhere (I learned on the journey back that we were actually at the village of Uchugay, which literally means ‘good’ in Yakut). An hour later we were at the next tiny village of Tomtor. Here one of our drivers, and all but one other passengers disemberked, leaving Vasily, myself and the remaining driver to take us the final 45km to Oymyakon. 45km down a narrow, bumpy icy road. I can’t stress how isolated these places are. These three villages occupy the large valley of Oymyakon, each one is about an hour apart, and after that there is nothing again for hours. Finally, 20 hours after leaving Yakutsk, I was delivered to the guest house of Tamara Egorovna.
After a quick look around to take stock of the village, I could see it was truly minute, maybe 100 houses. And it sits in a wide, very flat valley, surrounded by tall hills on each sides. So, naturally I picked the largest of these and decided it would be a good afternoon’s work to summit it and get some panoramic views of the the valley (despite Tamara’s warnings against such folly- fearing i would fall through ice into a river, or be savaged by wolves). Well this hill was deceptive. It was much further away than I thought, and already the sun was getting low. It was about -40 at this time, but plenty warm enough if you are moving about. And it was beautifully bright and clear. This area is so dry, that despite the temperature, they normally have ‘good’ weather! Eventually it became necessary to leave the road, and here the pace really slowed down- trekking through snow which lay over spongy undergrowth. And the hill was still damn far, and the sun was getting seriously low. After putting my irrational (I hope!) fears of meeting a bear aside, I continued. Eventually I reached the hill, and after struggling aloft, over countless fallen trees (as if the going wasn’t hard enough), I reached the top, of course only to see a taller hill right behind it. But the views over the valley at sunset were superb. Funnily this country reminds me of the “wild West’. Similar geography, just more snow, and more trees. I haven’t been to the ‘Wild West’, so don’t really know where I am talking about- I think many of those films were shot in Italy?
Well, it was time to get on and get back to the road before darkness fell. I could happily make way way back along the road in the dark. But damn, it became cold! After pausing to wrap my scarf around my face, and taking of my glove, my fingers, in the space of one minute, went so numb I couldn’t move them properly for ages- it literally felt like the blood in them had frozen! Well, all the while I had been hearing sounds like a chainsaw or something in the vicinity. Eventually a snowmobile emerged from the darkness and gave me a lift- an awesome turn of events, but the wind chill factor was shocking! He dropped me somewhere, and after realising this was NOT Oymyakon, I set out on the track once again. Luck was in once again and two locals in yet another Uaz picked me up and took me the rest of the way, back to Tamara’s. they told me that the temperature was -54C! Apparently my little escapade had caused quite a stir among the locals…
Tamara and her husband Alek are two of the nicest people you would ever meet. And her cooking is awesome, and she does not undertand ‘I am full!’, in English, nor in Russian (“я польний!”)! Their house is humble, but comfortable, but the toilet is outside! A squat toilet is never appealing at the best of times, but in these temperatures it simply was a no-go! Also staying there were Nikolai and Simeon, two young Yakut lads. They were sent to Oymyakon with their work- installing a satellite dish and communications euipment. They were good guys, and spoke pretty decent English, and we became good friends. The next day we went on a Winter-Fishing excursion. A local fisherman came and met us, and took us down a long track, past his house to the Indigurka River, which flows all the way from this area up into the Arctic Ocean (or Laptev Sea, or whatever it is up there). Unlike my previous escapades on frozen rivers, this was NOT safe! There were patches of open water, and perilously thin ice in places. But our man somehow knew where was safe to walk, so we put our trust in him. We found his fishing hole, clear it out with a big ice-pick and a spade. Then we went to a nearby hole, and discovered that his setup worked by two nearby holes with a net strung between them under the ice. Quite how they get the net from one hole to another, I do not know! Anyway, we reeled in the nets and counted out catch. I am afraid I do not know the name of these fish, in English, or Russian. Suffice to say we ate them the night before, and they were tasty! We then visited another setup a bit further away, but our guide would not let us walk to the second hole. He was a tiny guy, who probably weighs half what i do. He also got out a mirror on a stick, which is used to check things out underwater. It was interesting to see the nets underwater, but I couldn’t see any fish. It was -40, and due to not moving much I must confess that I became bloody freezing! But our fishing friend was dipping his hands in the water, and not wearing gloves! I can’t understnd how he can do that! We counted our catch- 13 fish, and put the already frozen creatures into Nikolai’s satchel and made for home.
The next day was Tomtor sports day. We caught the school bus, filled with the people of Oymyakon, and wended our way up tht bumpy track to Tomtor. More than once the passengers all became airborn as the driver took a few bumps a little too enthusiastically… we arrived at the Sports Centre, and people from Oymyakon, Uchugay, of course Tomtor, and even Ust-Nera, 500km away, had come here to compete in Volleyball, Table Tennis, and Yakutian Stick Wrestling. These guys take their sport seriously! The standard of playing was very good. Everyone here is a table tennis Jedi, and everyone carries their own table tennis paddle, wrapped in a plastic bag, and invariably in pristine condition. I am afraid I have to crush the rumour that I played Volleyball for Oymyakon. It didn’t happen, I have no experience playing Volleyball, and these guys were serious! But I did have a go at ‘Muss’ (or stick) Wrestling, at first with my friends Simeon and Kolya, and then with the local badasses. So I was put up against this guy who was pure muscle. I could tell he was toying with me, but I simply couldn’t move him. Eventually he became bored and quickly kicked my ass. He did later report that his bout with me had made his hands ‘very tired’, but I’m sure that was just to make me feel better.
At this day, and throughout my stay here I was really impressed by the sense of community. everyone knows each other, everyone is really friendly and interested in each other’s lives, and everyone was so welcoming to me- the only foreigner here at this time. Many people would ask, including myself, why do these people live here? This place is so extreme, the severe cold, and the total isolation. But everyone here seems so genuinely happy, so what more can you ask for?
Well Monday came and it was time to hit the road once again. First it was the trip from Oymyakon to Tomotor, the best part of an hour. Then Tamara’s friend Simeon met me, and hung out with me whilst I waited for the taxi to Ust-Nera. We were at the administration building, and again I was re-introduced to the Mayor of Tomtor. Finally the Uaz turned up and off we went. It was necessary to back-track west, towards Yaktusk along the Road of bones to Kyubeme for a few hours, before hanging right, and heading northeast to Ust-Nera. This was to be the shortest leg of the trip- only 500km.
Three-and-a-half hours after leaving Tomotor we arrived at Kyubeme. But it was not what I expected (We passed through here before at night). As I’d seen it marked on maps, I thought there would be a settlement here, and to be honest, I was really hoping to get some mobile phone signal here! We stopped for a lunch break at and abandoned settlement, so I took the opportunity to look around. It was only when I returned to the van, my fellow passengers told me THIS was Kyubeme, and it was in fact an old Gulag camp. This was quite a treat, as it would be the only camp I would visit. And one of the things that prompted me to make this journey in the first place was the history of the Gulag- surely one of the harshest tales of mass-suffering mankind has to offer. Any evidence of any real brutality must have long been removed, but it was still great to have a poke around here.
So we hit the road again, this time heading northeast to Ust-Nera. Epic landscapes ensued and just a sense of how vast this country is. People say that when you travel you start to feel that the world is a small place. I couldn’t disagree more! The tiny road wound its way thorugh vast, wide valleys, and past the peaks of the Verkhoyansky Mountains. Eventually night fell and yet we stil had not arrived. Suddenly our driver stopped. he clearly did not like the sound of the engine (I couldn’t notice anything), he stopped, opened the engine (conveniently in a hatch between the driver and front passenger seat). He took a look, and then we set off again. But two minutes later he stopped. I had no idea what was going on, but this guy was not happy. Him and his mate started to tinker with the engine, and it became clear they were doing some kind of repair-job. What the hell happens if we break down out here? It’s not like you can call the AA? Another car might come along in a few hours, and if your lucky, they might stop! And of course, without the radiator it would not take long before the -40 outside-temperature started to get the better of you! Plus I simply didn’t want to be delayed, as I was planning to leave Ust-Nera the next morning. Well, luckily they patched-up whatever it was and we got going again, and we rolled into Ust-Nera about an hour later, nine hours after leaving Oymyakon.
I was delivered to Natalya’s house. I met her at Tomotor Sports day, and she kindly offered to put me up for the night, and help me sort out my next taxi. And her friend Tonya came by as well, and we had great fun hanging out. It turned out my taxi the next day wasn’t leaving until three, so in the morning I visited Tonya’s school where she works as an English teacher. it was great fun meeting the kids, and I became something of a local celebrity. It seemed pretty much the whole school wanted a photograph with Matty the tourist. I can see how celebrity quickly get sick of photo shoots! Natasha and Tonya showed me round and kept me entertained until I left. Thanks to them so much for making my short stay in Ust-Nera such fun! It was a great way to break up my long journey.
My next taxi arrived- to my surprise not an Uaz, but a pretty sporty looking Toyata minivan, and very comfortable it was too! i was also surprised that there were only four passengers including me- I would have thought the driver would have wanted more to justify driving 20 hours through the wilderness. And thanks again to Natalya who got me the ride for the price of 6000 roubles (about 125-130GBP).
We set off, and in the remains of the daylight saw some of the most awesome scenery of the whole trip. Huge valleys, epic mountains, massive frozen rivers with difficult-to-pronounce names. Darkness fell, and again I was slightly disappointed that we would be making the majority of this trip in the dark. I dozed off, and awoke at a police check point, where a gate barred the road. I hadn’t seen this before. Maybe it marked the border of Yakutia and Magadan Oblast (region)? The driver took all of our passports, but instead I gave him my photocopies. I had been advised NEVER to give your passport to Russian Police. But I was sure they were going to call me in for questioning. As the driver went in, he also did not try to hide the fact that he was armed with a pistol. “Heavy Metal!” I thought. Why the hell does he carry that? Not for threatening fair-dodging clients, I’m sure. Suddenly I realised my naivety- this was the middle of nowhere and maybe a dangerous place. I had heard that unlicenesed gold prospectors operate in this region, and who knows, maybe car-jacking and banditry is not unheard of? But I felt safe with our driver.
So we finally got through the check point, and all without them interrogating me, so I had no complaints. We went through some particularly depressingly named towns, simpy in the middle of nowhere. The bad taste-meter went off during the thirty seconds it took to drive ‘Большевик’ (Bolshevik). And then the next place was cold ‘холодний’, which simply means ‘Cold’. What hope would you have if you were born there? A short distance later we arrived at Susume, and took the first of three breaks. Our driver was insane! He drove for 20 hours straight with just three short breaks. On the third break he bought five cans of red Bull at once! It would have taken more than that to keep my eyes on the road. These guys make good money though, so i guess that’s why they risk their own, and their passengers lives in a bid to stay awake for that long! I did think maybe we were going to crash when we came on a T-junction unexpectedly. Close one…
There was not much to do except try and sleep. but it was impossible! the driver was playing the worst music at substantial volume. I must say that I have found Russian popular music to be completely dreadful! Whilst their classical music is the finest in the World, and something I love deeply, I cannot stand the music I have been hearing here. And most people don’t even know who Shostakovich is! I was sitting in the front to get the best views, but went into the back to try and escape the speakers. I evetunally found a terribly uncomfortable nook on the floor and finally got a couple of hours sleep.
I awoke and we were pretty close to Magadan, maybe only 100kms. The scenery looked the same, but I guess we were in the Kolyma mountains now? We went through Sokol, somewhere I would soon be returning to, as this is where ‘Magadan’ airport is, and I would soon be flying to Petropavlovsk-Kamchatskiy, in Kamchatka. It is about 50km from Magadan. Sounds like somewhere Ryanair would operate out of, doesn’t it? Civilisation began- regular towns and villages, even buses where running this part of the Road Of Bones! Hurrah! And then we were there. I had successfully travelled 2000km+ from Yakutsk to Magadan, via the ‘Pole Of Cold’. And what about Magadan? I’ll tell you later!
P.S. Thanks again to my friend Bolot Bokcharev! His help and support were invaluable! I don’t know how i could have done this without him! Thanks man! Visit him at www.askyakutia.com.
PS2. Matt, I need to thank you for your exciting writing! Have a safe trip in Kamtchatka!
Similar Posts:
- Matt George’s report: Journey from Neryungri to Yakutsk by a taxi
- Activity tips: What to do in Oymyakon? Part I – Tomtor
- Pros & Cons: Travel from Yakutsk to Magadan in winter by taxi
- The Kolyma Highway (the Road of the Bones) by Sibirsky Extreme
- What is the standard tour to the Pole of Cold? Travel time, activities, accommodations, prices?
